The Illusion of Perfect
by skygirl55
Summary: Despite having completely different backgrounds and life experiences, writer Richard Castle and his detective partner Kate Beckett have always made their professional relationship work, but a dramatic event could finally be the catalyst for more. Caskett semi-AU w futuristic setting.
1. Chapter 1

**The Illusion of Perfect**

Despite having completely different backgrounds and life experiences, writer Richard Castle and his detective partner Kate Beckett have always made their professional relationship work, but a dramatic event could finally be the catalyst for more. Caskett semi-AU w futuristic setting.

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 **A/N:** There will be 8 chapters

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 **ONE**

"Beckett! Shit! The end if the pier!" The writer shrieked out in a panicked tone atypical to his generally relaxed demeanor, but if there was ever a time for him to lose his cool, it was this one.

"I see it! I—I can't—shit! The brakes—they aren't. God, Castle!" The female detective's tone was equally unraveled as her cruiser, pushed by a relentlessly angry dump truck, moved closer towards the pier's edge—moved closer to the Hudson River.

"Try the e-brake."

Castle watched with frantic eyes as Beckett's left foot stomped down on the sedan's emergency brake. As he could have predicted had he not been in such a state, it did very little to stop their progress, and they were now within just ten feet of the edge of the dock with no signs of stopping. "Okay, okay; I've read about this." He tugged on his seatbelt to make sure it was tight across his body to save him from the impact of hitting the water, which he imagined would be around a three or four foot drop. "Just put the back windows down."

"What?!"

"Do it! We can swim out!"

She moved her hands towards the window control on the driver's side door and accidentally began putting down the two front windows until she corrected, but by that time, the front wheels had crossed over the edge of the pier and their car was tilting precariously towards the murky water below. Kate let out a scream and gripped onto the door handle instead of continuing to put down the windows, but Castle didn't notice; he was too busy having an out-of-body moment as he processed their current predicament. Though in actuality their car balanced precariously for no more than ten or fifteen seconds, for Castle it felt like several minutes—enough time to review the bizarre circumstances that led him to that moment.

The man they viewed to be their best suspect in a double homicide had called the detective and told her he wanted to talk; that he had valuable information pertaining to their case. Of course this man did not know he was their best suspect—or so they hoped. He was heavily rumored to be in the mob thus the duo was treading lightly; wanting to make sure their case was rock-solid before going right at the suspect so as not to spook him away or anger his dangerous cronies. Kate had been so excited at the prospect that he might be doing something stupid like incriminating himself that, as her dutiful partner, Castle had just gone along with her. He hadn't listened to his gut, which told him that their suspect making a random phone call after giving them the cold shoulder the previous day made no sense. As it turned out the suspect had evidently been luring them into a trap for they had not been at the meeting spot for more than two minutes before their vehicle was pile-driven by the dump truck.

As he gripped the door handle with his right hand and the front edge of his seat with his left, Castle thought about his three-and-a-half year partnership with the woman beside him. Their union was, at best, a bizarre one, but it worked for them. They were from completely different social groups, which, in the year 2109 mattered more than ever (sad as that was), but he never thought twice about where she came from or how she was born. All that mattered to Castle was who she was—and that person was extraordinary.

They had been in many tough scrapes before. Many of those had involved flying bullets so, all things considered, he thought a swim in the Hudson was a better option to having flesh severed by small metal projectiles. Then again, it was the Hudson and despite nearly seventy years of eco-friendly government administrations it certainly was not the cleanest body of water, but still, compared to bullets, he'd take it.

 _Damn,_ he thought to himself as the underbelly of the car creaked and slid against the piers' edge. Why hadn't the NYPD switched their fleet over entirely to hover-cars? Then they could have swung around the dump truck and saved themselves the impromptu bath. Of course, given how light-weight and unreinforced floating cars were the impact of the several ton truck would have decimated one far more than the workhorse sedan—but it would have had to catch them first!

"Ah shit!" The writer croaked out as the heavy weight of the car's engine overtook the balancing vehicle and the front bumper splashed down into the water, throwing the bodies of its occupants forward with surprising force. After just another few seconds, the rear wheels crashed down into the water as well and they were level for a moment before the front end began to drift towards the sandy river bottom.

Taking a momentary deep breath, Castle looked over at his companion to assess her condition. "Are you okay?"

She pried her right hand off the steering wheel and nodded. "I—I think so."

Looking back over his shoulder, Castle saw that she had only lowered the back windows a third of the way, so he instructed her to continue lowering them, but when she moved her hands back to the controls, nothing happened, as the car's electrical circuits had already shorted out. Panic flashing through her eyes, she began clawing at the door handle, trying to ram it open, but was unsuccessful and began frantically cursing.

"Hey—Kate—look at me; it's okay." Castle reached out and placed a hand on her bicep, remembering the mantra he heard over and over again in the documentary he watched: calm people survive, panicked people drown. "We're going to get out; we just have to wait for the car to fill with water."

"WHAT?!"

"It's a pressure thing—physics. We can't get out until the car is fully submerged, but don't worry; we'll probably only have to hold our breath for about thirty seconds."

She shook her head, her eyes flaring wide. "Castle—I can't swim."

This comment did not disrupt his calm any as it did not shock him; not many lower-class city-dwellers could those days, but they wouldn't have to swim very far; they would barely be ten feet from the pier when they surfaced. Thanks to his boarding school days—not to mention the fact that he owned a beach house—he was actually an above-average swimmer and had full confidence in his ability to bring his partner safely to shore. "Don't worry, Beckett; I won't let you drown."

"Castle…"

"Hey." He squeezed her bicep and shook his head. "Trust me, okay? It's totally going to be fine." He had watched the documentary and read about escaping from car sinking in water for a Derrick Storm idea he'd ended up scrapping, but as he lived on an island, the knowledge had always stuck with him. True, he had hoped to never use those skills in an actual dire situation, but his knowledge was sound. Timing their last breath with the dwindling supply of oxygen in the car would be tricky, but then all they'd have to do was open the back door and—

Oh; the back door.

He was in a police cruiser, and no police cruisers had rear doors that could be opened from the inside to prevent criminals from escaping. That certainly did make their escape a bit more difficult, but not unmanageable. They would simply need to exit one of the front two doors and then they'd be fine.

As the water rose up to his mid-chest, Castle didn't even feel how cold it was; he was too focused on the plan at hand. He moved his right hand to the seatbelt latch at his left hip and pressed the release button while asking, "You have a flashlight in here, right?"

"Y-yeah." The detective, whose fingers were once again gripping the steering wheel with a vengeance, told him. "Glove compartment."

"Thanks." He popped it open and the lid splashed down into the water. Fortunately, being the organized person she was, the only objects Beckett stored in that location were the car's registration, the flashlight, and two spare magazines for her service weapon. He took out the flashlight, shut the door, and then turned to his partner. "Just relax, Kate; it'll only be a few minutes and, look on the bright side—they're not shooting at us."

Judging by her expression, she was unable to see a "bright side" in their situation and he couldn't blame her. Even if they were able to open a door at that moment and swim back do the dock, they would still have a very long, very cold walk to find assistance as both their phones were surely too water-logged to work, but that was okay—maybe they'd be able to huddle for warmth while they waited, and he certainly wouldn't be mad about that. Plus they weren't being shot at and given how the Mafioso perp they'd tried to meet had clearly planned to lure them into an untimely demise, he remained quite grateful for the lack of bullets to complicate their escape.

"Go ahead, take off your belt, and we'll climb into the back where the water's lower."

With a look of great reservation, Kate peeled her hands from the wheel and moved them to the seatbelt latch on her right side. He watched her tug, tug again, and then tug a third time while her face flushed white and she said, "Castle! My belt's jammed."

His brow furrowed and he reached under the water to see if he would have more success; he did not. "Do you have a knife?"

"In my bag…which is in the trunk! Castle!"

"Hey—it's okay. We'll just shoot the belt off," he suggested. Then he moved his hand from the belt buckle to the leather case on her right hip just a few inches away. When he realized the case was empty, his heart rate spiked. "Were…were you wearing your gun when you got in the car."

"Yes! Yes of course I—shit—maybe it was knocked out when we were hit?"

He nodded his head, his worry disappearing again. "No problem; I'll find it."

He flicked on the flashlight, sucked in a deep breath, and then dipped his head under the water, expecting to find the gun on the floor near her feet, but it wasn't there. Nor was it on his side of the floor or trapped somewhere between the seats and the console. Even when he moved to the back seat and groped around on the floor he still did not find the weapon.

"Castle! Castle!"

Her frantic tone hit his ears as he surfaced for another gulp of air. When he looked in the front seat, he could see that the water had risen to the point where it lapped at the bottom of her chin. A wave of uncertainty coursed through him and he dove back under the water again, feeling over what he thought to be every inch of the car, only to be unsuccessful once more.

Surely no—no! It wouldn't end like this. They were still in the prime of their lives. And their perp? He was, at best, a low-level member of The Family and Castle refused to be taken out by someone who had lured them with such annoying ease. "I—Beckett—just hold on…" There had to be another way; they had to come up with a second plan—and quickly, because their time before the vehicle was fully submerged and Kate was trapped was quickly running out.

"It's okay." She promised him, her voice alarmingly calm and steady. She reached her hand back and grabbed on to his arm, giving it a solid squeeze. "It—it's not your fault. Just get out when you can and-"

"No!" He poked his head between the seats so he could better look her in the eye. "Never. We're partner's and-"

"No." She corrected firmly. "You're not going to kill yourself for me; I'm not worth it."

As he whole-heartedly disagreed with her statement, the writer set his jaw just as the water began to crest his partner's bottom lip. "We're getting out of here—both of us. I promise you." With that, he sucked in a deep breath and sunk down beneath the water, more determined than ever to find the weapon that would save their lives.

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 **A/N:** I've said it before, I'll say it again: I don't know where these ideas come from...they just happen.

As for the #castle28 challenge from tumblr - I actually kind of adapted this idea to have that required part in it so you won't see it until the final chapter, but I promise it's there :)

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Richard Castle was never a man destined to live a normal life—not even from birth. In fact, his atypical life was guaranteed from the point of conception, when he was but an embryo created in a government facility. He and forty-nine others were part of the first wave of a new genetic frontier designed to alter the course of humanity as it was then known.

Beginning in the early 2050's the field of genetic studies began to examine ways to create what they deemed to be "elite" embryos. Of course the concept of "designer babies" had been around for many decades, with couples choosing to have sons instead of daughters or vice versa, but by the fifties the concept had taken on a life of its own. Not only could couples chose the gender of their child, but they could be assured that child would not be subjected to life-long problems like Type 1 Diabetes, various forms of cancer, or heart defects. As science progressed, they were soon able to choose whether their child would have blonde or brown hair, their eye color, and even how tall they would be.

Of course, these early tests were done on rodents and small mammals long before the first human trials were approved. When they were, the large sums of money being offered by genetic specialist to enroll in the still-risky trails drew the attention of then-struggling actress Martha Rodgers. She had always wanted a family, but never found a man who stuck around long enough to give her one. By enrolling in the trial, she would gain both the child she desired and enough money to support them until her next role-of-a-lifetime arrived.

As with many things, the initial information she heard about the trial seemed too good to be true—and most of it was. In exchange for enrolling in the trial, she would have a child that was biologically hers, but she would never know the identity of that child's father. Her child would also be subject to screening and testing at least for the first few years of his or her life, but once they assured her they would never take custody of her child away, Martha agreed and signed every form they placed in front of her.

Ten months later, one of the world's first elite children, her son Richard, was born. As they had promised her, he had brown hair, blue eyes, and absolutely no genetic abnormalities. Unfortunately, not all forty-nine of his kin were as lucky. Only thirty-seven of the initial fifty embryos produced viable children and only twenty-nine were as genetically perfect as their creators promised them to be. Despite this, the first generation of Elite children as they were known was deemed to be a success and, after making a few changes to make the next batch of designer children even more perfect, the next phase began.

By the time he was five years old the geneticists were no longer interested in poking Richard with needles or putting him through body scans. As they were now five generations deep into the world of Elite embryos, he was considered a successful but old model. After all, his eyes weren't as bright blue as some of the newer children, his skin just a little too yellow—and it burnt with too much exposure to the sun! Despite these minor blips, Martha could not have been more pleased, because they were finally free to live their lives as they desired.

As Richard grew up, he was afforded all of the best opportunities because of his Elite status. His entrance to the best schools was guaranteed (even after he was kicked out of the third one for poor behavior). He could have attended any university in the country even despite his mediocre grades. And then, when he decided to change his legal name and publish his first novel, half the publishing houses in Manhattan wanted his work. Still, despite all the preferential treatment he received, Richard never felt as though he fit in.

By the time he was a legal adult, nearly one fifth of the children born in the country were of Elite status; in Manhattan, the number was nearly double and it only grew the older he became. The explosion of genetic success had truly altered the course of humanity, eliminating illnesses and diseases, and making every Elite child born look symmetrical and perfect; any one of them could have been runway models.

Though he was technically lumped in with the Elites, as a First Gen he faced many prejudices. The later generations of Elites—the ones with perfectly smooth, unblemished skin, brilliant blue eyes and flowing blonde hair—barely saw him as any different than the Defects, the derogatory term they used to described any babies born from natural conception. The Normals, as they were more appropriately called, also looked down on him—calling him a freak and a robot for being created by a genetic machine and not a womb.

Despite his difficulty with his personal life, the man known by that point as Richard Castle, could not say he had a terrible life. His books were a wild success for the populous did not know he was a First Gen, only that he was an Elite. He was able to support himself and his mother in a lavish lifestyle, which made blending in with the other Elites a bit easier. He'd married one of them—Meredith, one of the only elite girls who didn't immediately walk away upon noticing the three moles on his face that would never have existed if he was in the later generations. He'd been instantly smitten with her bright blue eyes and sparkling orange hair, and though their marriage seemed doomed to failure from the start, he would never regret it for it had given him his pride and joy: his daughter, Alexis.

Though she was not the first, Alexis was one of the early second-tier Elites; a child born from two Elite parents. By that point, twenty-four years after their first round of embryos, the procedure was so commonplace it was practically as easy as ordering a custom meal. Castle and Meredith went to the local procreation office and sat down in front of a computer screen where they were given the option to choose as many or as few specifics for their child as they wished. He had no preferences at all, but Meredith had many. She wanted a girl with hair just like hers, and she wanted her to be tall, but with a slender build.

After their selections were placed, DNA was taken from them both to be combined into one of the blank, lab-generated embryos the company held. Meredith then received a vial of pills, which she would take for thirty days, and then she would return to have their designer child implanted in her now-ready uterus.

Strange as this process would have seemed for those twenty years in the past, Castle found the entire thing relatively normal—convenient, even. Of course the thirty-thousand dollar price tag was a little more than he expected, but they could afford it. It did, however, help him to realize why Elite children weren't as widespread as he would have thought and so many people still chose to conceive naturally.

Just a few months after Alexis was born it became clear to Castle that motherhood was not as easy or as natural as it had been presented to Meredith, though it took her almost three years for her to give up completely and move out to a community for Elites-only in California. Castle knew they were better off, and that he had received the better end of the deal, because he was able to keep their perfect little girl with brilliant blue eyes and sparkling red hair.

Castle continued on with his life, even marrying again, that time to an early generation Elite, hoping it would work out better, but of course it did not, until one morning he woke up and decided he needed to make a change. He killed off his money-making character, much to the utter fury of his ex-wife-slash-publisher, and found himself floundering, not sure where he fit in or how he should continue with his life.

And then he met _her_.

When Kate Beckett stepped in front of him, held up her police badge and demanded to speak to him about a murder case, Castle knew his existence was forever changed.

She was, without question, the most beautiful Normal he had ever seen. In fact, had it not been for the distinct mole beneath her left eye, he would have initially thought her to be an Elite. Still, with her looks and slender, model-like body she could have fit in well enough with Elites to become something significant, but she was a cop, a profession that by the 2100s was very unusual and undesirable, particularly with all the robot patrols and security cameras linked to computers doing most of the work. But Kate Beckett had chosen to become a cop, and that was interesting.

He immediately wanted to know the reason why, even flat out asked her when their interview was over, but she sharply shut him down, telling him that she was not one of his characters and he didn't need to know her backstory. It was that moment that he fell in love with her—well, in lust with her; falling in love with her would come later, after she'd told him about her mother's murder and how the crime-processing algorithms had determined to be a random, unsolvable event, but she was convinced that had a human been on the case the killer would have been found. That was why she'd ditched all future career plans and gone to the police academy instead—so no other family had to face the same fate.

The night he met Kate Beckett had changed Castle's life. He was once again invigorated to write—to write about a character like her: a gritty Normal who wanted to take the world by storm, refusing to accept the social bias she faced for not being an Elite and charging her way through life in spite of it. She was extraordinary, and every day that he shadowed her and learned just a little more about her he became more intrigued, more enthralled.

For over three years he shadowed her nearly every shift, becoming her defacto partner in crime and loving every moment of it, which was one of the many reasons he refused to let her die and determinedly searched beneath the driver's seat of their sinking vehicle in hopes of finding the weapon he needed to save her.

Finally, as his fingers were filling with searing pain due to the frigid temperature of the water, Castle's hand found the metal barrel of the gun, and he grappled for it. It was trapped on part of the seat mechanism, but after an agonizing ten seconds of fighting, he was able to pull it free and surfaced with a gasp. By that point, he had to tilt his face so it was practically parallel with the car's roof before he could reach air, which meant that Kate's nose and mouth were most definitely submerged and he didn't have much time.

Aiming the weapon down and away from her body, Castle shot through the belt to release it from where it was trapped. Fortunately, it tore with only one bullet, so he would be able to get her free, but he estimated nearly another minute would pass before the car was submerged enough for the pressure to equalize and the doors to open freely. That was a minute he didn't have, so on a whim he came up with a backup plan.

Gulping down air, Castle half-scrambled, half-swam to the front seat so that he could grip Kate around the waist. From that point, he fired the gun towards the back of the car in order to break out the back window. It took four shots to successfully do so and the miniscule pocket of air left in the vehicle filled with water. He could feel the back end sinking as he struggled to pull himself and Kate through the tight space. Once he reached the back window, he had to ram it with his shoulder in order to escape.

His lungs feeling like they were on fire, Castle pushed his way out, pulling the limp frame of his partner with him and pushed his feet against the car trunk to propel them quickly upwards. Fortunately, they were only a few feet down, and he was able to surface quickly with a gasp for much-needed air.

Treading water, Castle pulled Kate's body in front of him and called out her name, terrified he'd need to do CPR and not sure how easily he could get then back onto the pier. She didn't respond to his calls, but when he turned her around so that her back pressed into his chest, and dug his balled up fists into the space just beneath her rib cage as a make-shift Heimlich maneuver, he heard her cough up water and begin gasping for air.

Relief pouring through him so much that tears pricked his eyes, he pressed his lips to the back of her head while his feet continued to kick furiously to keep them above water. "You're okay; Kate; you're okay."

"C-Castle." She rasped out.

"Don't try to speak—I'm right here and I'll get us to shore, just focus on breathing and coughing up that water, okay?"

Without waiting for her response, He moved his arm from around her waist to around her upper chest, just beneath her armpits. Thankfully, one of his gym classes during boarding school had included lifeguard training, so he knew how to swim them safely back to land, even with Kate's limited assistance. Unfortunately, that was where they encountered their next problem: how to get back up onto the pier.

The surface was far too high for him to reach. Even if he could have somehow flung himself up high enough to reach, he definitely could not have done so while still holding on to Kate, but he could not let go of her if she couldn't keep her head above the water, so he continued down the pier, swimming for almost five minutes until they reached a very old, worn wooden ladder. Though he was convinced it nearly broke under their weight, it held firm enough for them both to climb to safety.

When Castle hoisted himself up enough to swing his backside around and sit down on the concrete pier edge, he realized his arms felt suddenly as limp as wet spaghetti noodles, but he could not yet rest—not with his partner collapsed just two feet away, still coughing and spluttering. "Kate—ugh." He grunted as he tried to move his way towards her and felt as though his legs were weighted with anvils. He wriggled his way across the ground until he could stretch out beside, her propping his body up with his left elbow as his right hand landed on her upper back.

"Kate, are you okay?"

"I—yes—I—I don't…" She spluttered out her words and Castle realized she wasn't just choking on river water, but she was crying as well.

"Hey, hey." His tone turned soft and he drew her in towards him with a firm hand against her upper back. "It's okay; you're okay."

She looked up at him, her hand loosely covering her mouth as she shook her head and said, "That was just…really scary."

He nodded and pulled her in until her head rested in the crook of his neck. Obviously her stuck seat belt had added quite a bit of terror to the situation, but even without that he imagined she still would have been unsettled due to the simple fact that she was unable to swim. "Well we're fine now; we made it."

"I know." Her voice was weak as she snuggled her head against his neck and used her hand to grab on to the center of his plaid-button down.

Castle felt his arm and shoulder begin to tremble due to the exertion he'd just had while swimming them to safety, but he didn't want to move—he couldn't, not with her so close to him for the very first time.

They had touched before, of course; had many handshakes and even three brief hugs (not that he was counting). Once she'd even used him as a makeshift ladder to climb up into the propped open window of a grungy warehouse to see if their suspect was inside. Arguably, since during that incident she was literally kneeling on his shoulders and his hands were braced at her hips for support, that situation might have been a tie insofar as physical closeness, but this was different. That was closeness for practicality; this was closeness for comfort.

Castle splayed his hand out across her shoulder blade and rubbed it in gentle concentric circles. He didn't say anything, not only because he did not want to ruin their moment, but also because he was gritting his teeth, fighting to keep his trembling shoulder from collapsing. God, was he really that out of shape? He used his gym membership…occasionally. And it wasn't even as though he swam a mile; it couldn't have been more than two hundred feet in total. Then again, other than the bobbing around he'd did in the ocean outside his Hamptons house, he could not recall the last time he had been swimming, particularly not when trying to keep another person afloat as well.

Ultimately, the muscle weakness in his arm and shoulder won out and Castle was forced to collapse back against the ground as his arm continued to tremble. Kate fell along with him, barely stopping herself from crashing into his neck with her hand flat against his chest. He grunted out a, "Sorry," and winced while putting his head against the hard concrete surface below.

"Oh god, Castle—are you okay?" Her hand skimmed from his chest up to cup his jaw as though she were examining his head for injuries.

"I'm fine." He grunted. "Just…arms are tired from the swim; couldn't hold us up like that."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He bobbed his head and lifted his arm enough so he could grasp onto her shoulder. "'m fine Kate, just tired. You're the one who lost consciousness."

He watched as she glanced tentatively back towards the river and then felt a tremble go through her body. He gripped more tightly to her arm and she looked back towards him with a mixture of relief and gratitude. It was only then he became acutely aware of how her body was almost draped over his, their faces hovering barely a foot apart. Had he the strength, it would have been all too easy to lift his head and kiss her. He wanted to and, god, maybe just maybe he could muster the core strength to—

Any thoughts of kissing Kate were evaporated from his mind by the arrival of the cavalry: several police cars and a fire truck, by the sound of it. As the sirens drew almost deafeningly close, Kate pulled her body away from his and rotated so that she was kneeling and bracing her hands against her thighs, preparing to stand. After taking a few deep breaths in preparation, Castle managed to push himself up into a sitting position with a grunt and then he look over at his partner. "At least we won't have to hitchhike our way back to safety."

She offered a small smile. "Yeah they'll take us back to the Twelfth and we can wash the river off."

"Great; I can already feel my third arm growing."

She grimaced and looked down at her body. "Don't remind me."

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 **A/N:** Thank you all for the reviews/follows. I hope you're all still with me now that you see the, uh, strange futuristic twist I put on this tale :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

As Castle stood in the shower on the fifth floor of the Twelfth precinct, he had never felt more relieved for the faulty-at-times plumbing of century-old buildings such as that one. Yes, the water could barely be considered lukewarm, but he was also just a tile wall away from a presumably soapy-and-naked Kate Beckett.

Thanks to a complete backup of the pipes in the men's locker room, Castle was forced to shower in the women's—along with Kate. Normally, such an event would have been prohibited, but with the level of bacteria in the Hudson, it was an actual health issue for him not to shower as quickly as possible—even with the antibiotic injections they'd received from the EMTs at the pier. Besides, sharing the locker room was far from as salacious as it sounded; each shower was individual and came with its own changing area, so it wasn't as though they were showering _together_ , but it was as close as they'd gotten so far, so he wasn't going to complain about it!

After rinsing all the suds from his hair, Castle dried himself with the scratchy, dingy white department-issue towel before pulling on the zip-front hoodie and sweatpants provided to him. Both were navy blue and tagged with the NYPD logo, but they were the only clothes available that would fit him. He didn't mind, though; he only needed to wear them long enough to finish his statement and take a hover-cab back home.

Stepping out of the shower wearing the well-worn workout shoes donated to him by the only colleague of Kate's who also wore a size fourteen, Castle tossed his used towel in the appropriate bin and gazed back towards the showers. He had intended to wait for his partner on the benches by the lockers, but his progress was interrupted upon the discovery of just how thread-bear the shower curtains were. Due to the thinness of the fabric and the lighting in the room, Castle could plainly see the silhouette of his partner as she emerged from the shower and re-dressed in her spare clothes.

He knew it was wrong; he knew he shouldn't have been looking, but now that he'd seen her he couldn't look away. She was gorgeous, with subtle curves in all the right places and, god help him, in that moment he never wanted her more. He managed to restrain himself from ripping back the curtain and ravishing her then and there, but just barely—and he wasn't sure for how much longer he'd be able to resist.

In that moment, the best Castle could say about his feelings for the female detective was that they were complicated. Their relationship had begun with significant lust from his point of view and much animosity from hers. In fact, it had taken her nearly six months to warm up to him enough to call him a friend, which she openly admitted was because of his Elite status. Not long after that she began a relationship with one of the cops from vice division, which he admitted singed his blossoming feelings of love for her, so he'd distracted himself with two different relationships, both with Elites and neither of which ended up being very memorable.

A year earlier things between them began to change for the first time since Kate's initial thawing-out. When searching for suspects on a brutal double homicide case, they'd been trapped into a fire-fight. Not for the first time Kate handed him her spare weapon and they battled side-by-side. However, when she took two bullets, one to her dominant arm and the other to her vest on the same side, she was forced to depend on Castle to get them out safely, and he happily did so.

In hindsight, that event was the turning point in their relationship. They had been in harrowing spots before, but that one was by far the most uncertain (up until their car was sinking into the Hudson, of course). They grew closer, often grabbing drinks or meals after her shift. Shortly thereafter he found out that she broke up with her current boyfriend—a postal worker she met through one of their cases—because he, by her own admission, wasn't the type of person she would trust to save her from a firefight. Though she'd said her statement with a small amount of jest, Castle believed it to be mostly truth, and for the first time he truly believed that they had a future—a chance.

Being a very professional person, Kate had never openly showed animosity or dislike towards Elites simply because they were Elite, however he always had the impression that she believed, like so many did, in the unspoken separation between Elites and Normals. Because of this, he never truly let himself believe they could become a couple, even if he had fallen completely in love with her. Her comment, however, changed his view and so did her actions over the next several months.

They would regularly eat meals together, grab drinks, and talk—really talk. They had deep conversations unlike any he'd ever had before about life, Elites versus Normals, and the world in which they lived. Though their discussions would lead to arguments on occasion, their viewpoints, however different, seemed to mesh well together and he honestly believed it helped them understand each other better.

These conversations also helped him fall irrevocably in love with her.

At the onset of that New Year Castle resolved that he would find a way to ask Kate out on a real, official date. He'd chickened out on every opportunity he had in the prior four months. Sure, they'd gone out, but it was always under the guise of friendship, never official. They were going closer, though, and were in almost constant contact, even if he wasn't shadowing her, so perhaps it seemed appropriate that fate had presented him with an opportunity. Yes, he would have preferred if that opportunity would have allowed him to stay dryer, but, as they said, fate worked in mysterious ways.

When Kate pulled back the curtain of her shower stall, the metal rungs squealing against the hanging bar, she smiled at him as she walked over to deposit her used towel and now empty coffee cup into the appropriate bins. Coffee had helped rejuvenate the writer as well, but in that moment he was operating on pure adrenaline. His heart thundering beneath his rib cage as he stood from the bench and watched as she returned her shower caddy to the locker labeled with her name.

"Feeling cleaner?"

"Definitely." He responded. "You?"

She nodded while continuing to rummage in her locker. "Much, though I think the water must still be in my sinuses or something, because I feel like I can still smell it."

"That'll go away," he said, thankful for the small talk for it helped him prepare for what he was about to say.

"Hopefully. I, ah." She paused as she shut her locker halfway, slipped her hands into her back jean pockets and took two steps towards him. "I realized I never officially said thank you for pulling me out of that car."

He bobbed his head graciously. "You would have done the same."

"Yeah. Probably." She shrugged casually then flashed him a smile that had his heart fluttering once again.

"You know," he said, closing the gap between them even more, "I actually prefer to accept hugs as thank yous."

She rolled her eyes, but pulled her hands from her back pockets anyway and reached out for him. He slid his hands over her back until he could pull her body against his and rest his head against the curve of her shoulder. Not just because of how close they'd come to suffering a different fate, but also because of their freshly showered state their hug felt much more intimate. They were fully dressed but he could still feel the edge of her spine beneath his hands, and breathe in the cherry scent of her shampoo as strongly as ever with her damp hair just a few inches from his nose.

Unable to resist the urge, Castle pressed his lips against the top of her shoulder just to know what it would feel like, to see how she react. He could hear her shuttered breath and feel her hands a bit more firmly against his shoulders which only encouraged him to continue. Turning his head slightly to the left, his lips rested just at the edge of the collar of her shirt, so they bridged the gap between flesh and fabric. That time, he felt her body jolt next to his.

"What are you doing?"

As she didn't move away, he continued to turn his head so that his lips ghosted just above the skin on her neck. He moved slowly northward until they rested just below her pulse point. When he tried to kiss her there, she jumped again and that time pushed herself away with a warning, "Castle."

"No, don't." He protested, trying to hold her close, but she hopped over one of the benches so that it separated them.

"We can't do that."

"Why not?"

She twisted enough to snatch a small makeup bag out of her open locker before shooting him a firm look. "You know why not," she said before stalking off towards the nearby counter where there was a large mirror above two sinks.

Though he wished to ignore it most days, he did understand to what she referred: the fact that society seriously frowned upon intimate relationships between Elites and Normals. They weren't against the law, and in rural areas, where the number of Normals was larger than the number of Elites several times over, they were almost commonplace, but in metropolitan areas like Manhattan? Such couples would face serious opposition.

Romantic relationships had always been especially complex and difficult for Castle. Everyone his age was a Normal save the other twenty-eight first gens, only one of whom he kept in contact with into adulthood. If he wanted a relationship with another Elite, it would have needed to be with someone more than likely several years his junior, which he had done almost exclusively es over the years, but those relationships hadn't worked out long term—none of them had. Even his attempts at relationships with Normals had failed to that point, but standing there, staring at the female detective fumbling around with eyeliners and mascara wands as though she'd forgotten how to hold anything properly in her fingers, he could not help but think there was a reason for all of that.

Castle approached her from behind and stood just close enough to catch her reflection in the mirror. "It's not illegal, Detective."

She scoffed. "Might as well be."

Sadly, she had a point. The antagonism mixed couples faced in Manhattan seemed to grow worse every years as more and more Elites came into adulthood, but what did that matter? Those people didn't know them; they weren't all in a relationship—only the two of them would be.

"How could this be illegal? Not when it feels so…" His voice drifted off for not even the whole of the English language could properly describe the way he felt when she smiled at him or when her hand brushed over his. Seeing that he had her full attention, he stepped closer and continued. "You feel it, too; I know you do."

She dropped the mascara back onto the counter and gripped the edge of the sink tightly with her hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He stepped up so that he was close enough to touch her. "You do. Every time I catch you looking at me. Every time you do the same. When I hold a door open for you and you brush your fingers against my arm. When we shake hands and you hold on just a second longer than you should. You want this as much as I do." His heart was pounding in his chest now, his palms beginning to feel clammy, but he wouldn't stop now—he couldn't.

"I…no."

He could feel her walls starting to rise up again—the ones he'd worked years to crack though, so he quickly decided to shift directions and try a different angle. Maybe talking about how they truly felt about each other was too much for her; perhaps he needed to focus more on the moment.

Castle stepped up to the edge of the sink so that he could stand beside her and look at her directly instead of through a reflection. "Kate," he began while placing a soft hand on her arm, "we almost died today. Don't you want to celebrate being alive?"

She dipped her gaze towards the counter. "I…I-I can't."

He heard the hitch in her voice and knew she was near tears. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry, but if that's what it took to get her to open up, to be honest with him… "Kate, please." He moved his hand from her arm so that he could tilt up her chin with his index finger beneath her jaw. She let him lift her head, but her eyes remained closed.

"Castle…"

"Just let go," he whispered just before lowering his lips to hers. She breathed in sharply but didn't push him away. Instead, she let out a soft whimper and moved one of her hands from where it white-knuckled the sink edge so it could rest gently on his side. A moment later she parted her lips, melted into him and—god, this was what it felt like to truly live. The women's locker room at the Twelfth precinct with its cracked, moldy tile and musty smell had to be the most non-romantic location in the city, but it didn't matter as long as his lips were on hers.

Castle pulled back only long enough to fist his fingers through her wet hair and pulled her mouth more firmly against his so he could sweep his tongue past her lips. She groaned and tilted her head back to accept him, but only for a moment, before she pressed both hands against his belly and forced him away saying, "No, stop."

"But Kate."

"No." She shook her head, turning from him so she could grab a paper towel to use to mop up the tears that had fallen from the corner of her eyes. "We can't."

His heart broke a little, but not because of her words; because of how broken they sounded coming out of her lips. "Kate…"

She sniffed and crumpled up the paper towel in her hands before looking back at him with set shoulders and a firm jaw. "You should finish up your statement with Ryan and then go home. I have to dry my hair and…and then I have paperwork to fill out since my car is at the bottom of the Hudson."

Unwilling to give up, he asked, "How long do you think that'll take?" as he formulated his next idea in his mind.

She shrugged and picked up her mascara tube again, turning back to her reflection in the mirror. "I don't know."

"Maybe you should come over for a drink after."

She let out a derisive laugh. "You're not very good at taking no for an answer, are you?"

He grinned at her. "Never have been. Listen, no pressure. I'll just, ah, leave the loft door unlocked and when you're done with your paperwork… let's just say I really want you to come," he let a beat go by before continuing. "…over. Come over."

His suggestive wording earned him a glare and a very on-edge sounding, "Castle…"

With an innocent shrug, he backed away from her, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "Hope to see you later, Kate." And with that, he walked out of the room without ever looking back.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you for all the positive & supportive reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Kate stepped out of the elevator on the penthouse floor of Richard Castle's building and paused before moving an inch further. She let out a huffed breath, dropped her chin to her chest, and turned one hundred and eighty degrees so she faced the elevator. She picked up her foot, determined to turn around that time after four previous failed attempts, but could not bring herself to do so; the curiosity was just too strong.

Damn that Richard Castle for being so…Richard-Castle-y. He'd burrowed under her skin in all the best and terrible ways until he'd become part of her; a part she no longer wished to ignore even though, god help her, it could very well break her heart in the process. She'd come that far and she couldn't turn back, even if turning away might have been the easier thing to do.

Richard Castle…of all the people in the world, it had to be Richard Castle.

Ever since she was a child Kate Beckett disliked Elites, though she had no valid reason for doing so. As lawyers at a prestigious firm, her parents worked with many men and women who had chosen to have Elite children. As they had chosen not to do so, the Becketts often felt as though they were ostracized by their coworkers. Overhearing these stories Kate began to dislike the Elites for being, well, elite, though she had never actually met one.

Kate did not officially meet an Elite until her freshmen orientation weekend at Stanford, when she was placed in a tour group with a five-foot-eleven, platinum-blonde, blue eyed girl appropriately named Angel. Though Angel was not as snooty or standoffish as initially expected, Kate remained skeptical, even when she ended up living on a floor with two different Elite girls during her first semester. Her opinion of Elites was almost beginning to melt when her mother was murdered and everything changed.

Of course there was no way for her to know if Elites were directly responsible for her mother's murder—odds were they were not. However, technological advancements similar to those that allowed Elites to exist were the ones that had determined through computer programs and algorithms that her mother's case would end up being an unsolvable one, and thus a human detective was never brought in; it was simply filed a way. These new crime solving robots were meant to aid in efficiency and save the city—and thus its citizens—money. That may have been true, but computers were bound by their programming. They did not have instincts or hunches to follow. Kate firmly believed that had a human—a police detective—been put in charge of the case it would have been solved, which was why she decided to move back to Manhattan and pursue a career in law enforcement.

Despite the fact that being a police officer was one of the most difficult career choices she could have made, Kate never regretted her decision. Yes, she was looked down upon by many of her peers for doing a menial job mostly done by automation, but she knew she was making a difference with every arrest she made. As long as she could prevent families from suffering the same fate as hers, she was doing the right thing, so she moved her way up the ranks and proudly accepted her detective's badge.

Other than the rare occasions on which they were victims, Kate did not encounter many Elites through her work. Now and then she interviewed one as a suspect (and that almost never ended well) but for the most part she existed around Normals like herself and she would have been just fine living out the rest of her days that way.

Then, Richard Castle walked into her life and nothing made sense anymore. She suspected she would always remember the exact moment her captain informed her that the writer intended to shadow her for "research." She had never been so horrified! Not only did she have to see and interact with a narcissistic Elite again, but she had to see him every day? She feared it would be torture.

Once the initial irritation wore off, Kate had to begrudgingly admit to being somewhat fascinated with her new partner, especially once she found out he was one of the First Gens she'd learned about in school. Within just two weeks she'd had more interaction with him than she had with all other Elites in her entire life combined, but she was still determined not to like him simply because of his status. Well, that, and because he was annoying, particularly when he made her heart flutter and her skin flush—but it wasn't as though she actually liked him; she was having the physiological response her body was designed to have when she viewed his symmetrical face, winning smile, and sparkling eyes. One of the core designs of Elites was that they were as aesthetically pleasing as possible and thus her attraction to him was simply an unfortunate side effect of biology—or so she tried to tell herself.

Not too long passed before Kate realized that Castle was unlike any human—Elite or Normal—that she had ever met before. He didn't fit the standard pattern of Elites, barely mentioning his status at all and seeming embarrassed when it was brought up. He was kind and sweet, and though he could be arrogant at times, he was also one of the most genuine people she'd ever met. Had she not known he was an Elite, she would never had realized, which had her second guessing all her preconceived notions and prejudices against the lab-generated group.

Two years into their partnership Kate genuinely called him a friend and knew he was someone she could trust one hundred percent, especially after he carried her battered and injured body safely away from a situation that could have easily killed them both. After that, they moved easily from being work-friends to friend-friends and, though she was terrified to admit it, maybe even more.

Over the prior year, Kate and her author partner had spoken for hours on end each week—and not just under the guise of research for the books he wrote about a character inspired by her; they really talked—about life, about society, about their families and pasts. She looked forward to those chats over drinks and meals she shared with his family, but had always tried to keep herself at arm's distance from him, though she did not always feel successful.

In Kate's mind, a clear line existed between them. He was an Elite. He had two Elite wives before they met. He had an Elite daughter. She would never be part of the Elite world, so having feelings for him other than friendship would mean only setting herself up for the heartbreak she vowed to avoid after the death of her mother.

Still, as much as she told herself to stay away, something beyond her control kept dragging her back towards Richard Castle, which was why she stood in the hallway outside his apartment door daring herself to grab on to the handle, turn it, and step inside.

God, she was a moron to have made it that far; she should have just taken the subway back to her place after she finished filling out the piles of paperwork that would get her a new vehicle. What did she honestly expect to happen if she went inside that night? Richard Castle would never want her—not for the long term. At best they would have a one night affair and go back to being platonic partners, side-by-side in her (new) squad car. Or would they even make it that far? Maybe they'd drift apart after breaking the intimacy barrier, but maybe that was a good thing. She could get him out of her system—stop him from entering her persistent thoughts and dreams—and then they'd both move on. Yes, maybe that was for the best.

Taking in a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to calm her humming heartrate, Kate turned the door handle and found no resistance. She stepped inside, shrugged off her coat, hung it up and then shut the door behind her. She'd been to the Castle residence enough time to be familiar with the layout, so when she did not see her partner in the kitchen, she assumed he'd be in his office procrastinating instead of writing.

She walked across the sitting area to the gap in the bookshelves that led to his office, spotting him behind his desk still wearing the navy blue NYPD hoodie. Surprisingly, he was tapping away at his laptop keyboard. When she saw his tongue dart out and skirt across his upper lip she sucked in a deep breath, instantly remembering the moment hours earlier when he'd done the same to her lip.

God, when he kissed her she'd forgotten how to breathe. Every past moment she'd convinced herself that she didn't have feelings for him evaporated and she knew with full certainly she'd never wanted him more. The pressure of his lips against hers, his hand grabbing at the base of her neck and his strong torso beneath her fingertips… It had taken every last ounce of her self-control not to drag him into one of the shower stalls and—no. No. She had to keep her head clear for the moment. She could still change her mind.

"Hey."

The writer startled at her soft voice, gazed up and smiled. "Hey. You made it."

"Ah, yeah." She stepped into his office and folded her arms over her stomach so she could cup the opposite elbow with her hands. "Am I interrupting?"

"No, not at all; just jotting down notes. I, ah, wasn't sure if you'd take my invitation."

"Neither was I…I still don't know if I should be here." She confessed with a slight shrug.

He stood from behind his desk and began walking towards her. "Then let me convince you. Would you like a drink first?"

She gazed up into his ever-darkening eyes and swallowed involuntarily. No, alcohol was not something she wanted to add to this situation. She was certain if she felt even remotely tipsy she'd give in to her deepest desires and let him ravish her the whole night long. "No, thank you."

"Okay." He smiled, skimmed his hands down each of her arms until his rested against her elbows as well. His eyes trailed down her body and then back again and he said, "You look a little nervous. You've had sex before, right?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from him scolding, "Castle!" with a groan. She knew he didn't seriously believe her to be a virgin, but of course he'd make a joke in that moment; it was just his style.

"Hey." His voice husked into her ear as he nudged her low back towards a darkened doorway on her right. "I'm just trying to get you to relax." He moved ahead of her and crossed into the dark space with ease. A moment later it was illuminated by the low-light of a bedside lamp and she was able to see his very inviting looking king-sized bed before her. Castle said nothing as he removed decorative throw-pillows, dumped them carelessly to the floor, and then peeled back the duvet and top sheet, revealing a space just large enough to slip inside.

"Sheets are clean; I promise."

She felt her shoulders relax slightly at the sight of his smile. "I wasn't worried about that." She confessed as she approached. "I just… have you ever been with a non-Elite before?" Maybe he was used to women with perfectly symmetrical breasts, flat stomachs, and a complete absence of body hair; maybe he would be the one to change his mind so she didn't have to.

He shook his head disapprovingly. "You're making yourself sound like a different species."

"We might as well be," she muttered beneath her breath, for some days it truly did feel that way.

"No, Kate; we're all the same," he said with such confidence it made her want to believe him. He reached out his hand, pulled her towards the bed and nudged her forward until she sat in the exposed space. Brushing his thumb against her cheek he smiled down at her. "And, to answer your question: of course I have."

As Kate scooted back further on the bed to allow room for her companion, she thought to herself that she had never made love to an Elite, but she also decided that was not something the writer needed to know especially after his decree that they were all the same.

A moment later he joined her, put his arm around her waist, and pulled her in for a kiss. The moment she felt the searing heat from his mouth over hers she knew for certain her decision to go to his apartment that night had actually been made hours earlier when they first kissed, for one moment between them would never be enough; one night wouldn't be enough, though it may have been all they had. That kiss was not the fervent, intense on like their first, but tentative, slow and sweet. The kiss made her body hum for more, but as his hands began to caress her hips and skim beneath her shirt on their way towards her breasts, uncertainty crept into her mind once more. "Castle…are you sure you want this?"

He gazed down at her incredulously. "You're kidding me?"

Her hand landed in the center of his chest and she shook her head. "I know you want to…celebrate the fact that we got out of the car alive, but what if people find out…"

"You going to call Page Six and tell them tomorrow?"

"Obviously not."

"Then stop worrying about things that won't happen and just…live in the moment, okay?"

Without waiting for her response he kissed her again and leaned against her until she reclined on the bed, her head landing on the corner of one of his pillows. She tried to clear her mind as his large hand splayed across her breast and his lips skimmed her jawline, but it was hard for her not to think about how much she might regret their decision to make love. Granted, it did become easier the more he kissed her and touched her and—god, how had they waited so long to do this?

Kate cupped her hands around the writer's jaw and smiled over at him for a moment, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. He was so beautiful, especially being that close to him, touching him. In that moment she forgot that his strong jaw and perfectly rounded lips were lab-created and focused instead on the devotion that poured from his gaze, and his quiet praises of her beauty and other wonderful qualities in between kisses.

Several minutes later she was naked from the waist-up and was finally beginning to undress him while kissing and nipping at the smooth skin on his neck. As he was one of the elites without facial hair, he never had any stubble or a five o'clock shadow, which she found somewhat fascinating since she had never been around such a man. She continued to kiss his neck while unzipping his hoodie and skimming her hands across his chest which, conversely, did have a small amount of hair. She chuckled to herself at how bizarre and opposing the composition of Elites could be at times.

When she pulled back to help push the hoodie off, Kate gasped at the sight of the skin on his shoulders and upper back. Instead of being almost glowing and smooth like that on his face and the back of his hands, it was evenly peppered with freckles and sunspots. Though she'd never been intimate with one, Kate had seen naked Elites before, both in text books and on the rare occasion they were homicide victims she was visiting in the morgue. All of them had flawless, porcelain smooth skin unmarred with any discoloration. How strange.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head and gauzed up at him, feeling rather guilty for gaping at him. "Nothing's wrong. You just have freckles…"

He shrugged. "I have a beach house; I'm in the sun a lot."

Her brow wrinkled. "But Elites don't get freckles…right?"

"I'm a First Gen," he said as though this alone were explanation enough.

She leaned away, somewhat taken off-guard by his mechanical-seeming answer. "I—I didn't realize you were that different. What else? I mean, are there a lot of differences?"

He shrugged and brushed some hair away from her shoulder so he could lean down and kiss it. "Not a lot, mostly things you wouldn't notice. Oh, except I only have seven toes."

"What?!"

He lifted his head and smirked at her. "Kidding."

Kate rolled her eyes and gave his arm a shove. Instead of reacting with another joke, he gave a sad sort of shrug and said, "Nothing's supposed to be different about me, Kate; I'm just like them only…less perfect."

His comment made her heart sink down into her chest as she truly believed there was no such thing as being perfect. Oh, yes, the Elites liked to think they were, but in reality perfect was just an illusion—a perception. Were the Elites perfect because their skin was smooth and had no flaws like freckles or moles? Perhaps, but not in Kate's view. It made them all seem plastic and almost doll-like. She found it creepy, but Castle's freckles made him real—human, which was absolutely not the same as being imperfect.

Kate lifted her head, grazed her lips over his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Not to me," before pulling his body down on top of her so they could become lost in each other.

* * *

 **A/N:** As many of you have realized, I was inspired to write this in part after someone explained the premise of the movie Gattaca to me, though I have never actually seen the film :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

Richard Castle stepped off the elevator on the Homicide floor of the twelfth precinct with an extra bounce in his step. The reason he felt as though he was walking on clouds that morning was not due to the fact that his nearly year-long dry spell had been broken or who it was broken with, but instead because of how excited he was for the next phase in his life—the one he believed would lead to a marriage that would last, perhaps another child or two, and, most importantly, endless amounts of love.

The writer was without any question in love with his muse. He'd known it for quite some time (hence the self-imposed dry spell) but crossing the intimacy barrier with her had alleviated any doubt. She was extraordinary in many, many ways.

That morning when he awoke to find his bed empty Castle had to admit to being slightly disappointed. He wanted a nice, casual morning with her when he made her breakfast, they ate together and talked about their plans for the upcoming day. Instead, he only found a cold pillow and a text that told him in as few characters as possible that she had an early morning and would talk to him later. Since she was not specific as to when "later" might occur, Castle took matters into his own hands, picking up her favorite caffeinated beverage and arriving at the Twelfth just in time to present it to her as her second cup of the day.

After peeking down the hall to see that she wasn't at her desk, he ventured into the breakroom to find that she was, in fact, retrieving that second mug of unappetizingly industrial cop java; thank goodness he was in time to save her taste buds. "Don't drink that when you can have the good stuff."

She jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up rather embarrassed. When he held it out to her, she took the take-away cup with a rather flustered, "Hi. Thanks."

"Good morning—and you're welcome."

She took a sip from the cup and wrapped both her hands around the carrying sleeve. "You didn't have to come in; no new car yet means no new cases and the boys are out looking for our would-be assassin."

"Well I hope they can knock him into the river before they cuff him, but that's not actually why I'm here."

"Oh?"

He glanced around tentatively, but thankfully the breakroom was empty save for them. No one appeared to be standing right outside the glass windows, either. Taking a step towards her, he smiled slowly and said, "I wanted to see you since you weren't there when I woke up." At least, not the time he woke up after dawn. The first time he'd woken up had only been shortly after midnight and he'd roused her with a kiss to the hollow of her throat so they could make love again—an event which was even better than the first, improbable as that was. Had he found her that morning, they probably would have gone for round three.

"Well, I, ah, didn't think I should stay."

"Why?" he asked, his brow wrinkling as she turned her eyes towards the floor.

Kate let out an exasperated huff and moved to step around him. "Let's not do this, okay Castle? Just let sleeping dogs lie."

He closed his hand around her bicep before she could escape. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged off his couch and tapped her fingers against the edge of the cup. "It means we had a great night so let's just-"

"No!" He cut her off when he realized a breakup was on the horizon. He would not accept a breakup—particularly not since they weren't even yet together officially. "No—absolutely not."

She shut her eyes and shook her hand gently. "Castle."

"No, Kate. My god." He breathed out a heavy breath and rested his hands gently atop her shoulders until she met his gaze. "Last night was the best night of my life."

"Rick-"

He once again cut off her protests, which he knew to be serious since she rarely used his first name. "I'm serious. I never…I never felt that I fit in— you know that." They'd talked about it before—many times while drinking milkshakes at a centuries-old dive called _Remy's_ and while sipping scotch in one of her favorite cop bars. He'd told her about how hard it had been growing up and feeling like an outcast—feeling like the freak his classmates accused him of being. He'd been more honest with her than with anyone before and, most amazingly, felt no nerves or uncertainty about it because of how kind she'd been, empathizing with him as best she could, and thanking him for sharing his story with her.

Though thirty-five years had passed since he first realized just how different he was, Castle still felt the sting of his youthful outcast as it had a habit of returning to his life frequently. Every time he heard, "Oh. You're a First Gen," and the judgement that came along with it, the wound was rubbed raw, but he never felt that—not with her.

"I've never fit in my entire life. Black Pawn wanted to publish my books because I'm on the Elite registry and somewhat a novelty as a First Gen, but I never fit in with the other Elites there, just like I didn't fit in with any of my Normal peers in school. But then I met you and suddenly everything started making sense. I was doing things I'd never done before, truly helping people side by side with you and I felt like I was in the right place at the right time. Just like last night—last night I felt that more than ever. Kate," he squeezed her shoulders just a little bit harder, "I am in lo-"

"Don't." She twisted away from him, her voice on the precipice of breaking. She walked back to the counter, put her take-away cup down on it and rested her palms flat on either side, staring down at the mottled brown surface and croaking out, "Don't say it."

"Why?"

"Because you can't—you can't mean it. We can never be together."

Had she not sounded so broken when she said them, her words would have sent knives through his heart, but hearing how devastated she sound only succeeded in confusing him. "But why? Why can't we-"

"Because it'll ruin your life!" The words exploded from her mouth as she turned back around to face him, tear-tracks burned on each side of her face.

He took a half step back purely from the harshness of her words. His brow wrinkling, he shook his head and asked, "What are you talking about?"

She let out a mirthless laugh and brushed a tear away from the bottom of her jaw before resting her right hand flat against the counter. "Tell me you're not this naïve, Castle. Being in a relationship with a Normal would taint you badly enough but with a cop? You'll be a leper—you have to know that. Your career with Black Pawn will be over."

Castle pressed his lips together, carefully considering his response. She wasn't entirely wrong about what she was saying, sad as it was. For reasons he hadn't understood for many years, careers in law enforcement had become some of the least desired possible—even less so than sanitation workers, which was another profession largely done by robots. He didn't understand why people didn't respect those keeping the streets safer, but perhaps they merely saw cops as an annoyance—or looked down upon them for not making a more glamorous career choice.

The truth of it was, he was already rather a laughing stock at Black Pawn for not only being a flawed, First Gen Elite, but because of the subject matter of his books. In fact, when he'd pitched the idea of a series featuring a sexy, savvy female cop to his publisher, he'd been laughed out of the office. When he'd returned a few weeks later with chapters, he faced a lecture critiquing his choices and had been kept on a very tight leash. Fortunately for him—and for his inspiration—the book was a best seller among Normals and his publisher was forced to eat her words. To that day Black Pawn claimed not to understand the success of Nikki Heat's tales, but Castle liked to think it was because people were anxious to read about a hero much more relatable than one who defied the laws of gravity while wearing a cape.

Despite the fact that his numbers were still some of the best at the publishing house, Kate's concern that Black Pawn would refuse to publish once his reputation as an Elite was "tarnished" by a relationship with a Normal were valid. They could very well drop him, but the fact of the matter was: he just didn't care.

"So what? I have more than enough money for us both to live well into our 100's."

She combed her left hand through her hair. "Castle…"

Trying to ignore the fact that Kate had inadvertently made herself look sexier by roughing up her shoulder-length locks, the writer insisted, "I'm serious!" Even if Black Pawn took away his royalty checks (which legally they could not do, but assuming they did) he had more than enough people for the two of them and their hypothetical children to live comfortably for many decades.

"But not writing anymore?" she questioned, her voice softer, more afraid. "Won't you be unhappy?"

He offered a gentle smile and took a step closer. "I can still write, Kate; maybe even find a new publisher."

She shook her head and offered a new speedbump in their plan. "And what about your daughter? She'll get dragged down along with you."

This comment did cause the writer to hesitate. Though he was an Elite, he had grown up walking the line between the world of Elites and Normals and, actually, it forced to choose, he would have associated more with the Normals, so leaving the Elite world wouldn't bother him. His daughter, on the other hand, as an Elite born from two Elite parents, had only lived in the Elite world. She went to a private school exclusively for Elites. In fact, other than her grandmother, he hazarded to guess that Kate may have been one of the only Normals she spent significant time with, and even that was just over group dinners and occasional movie nights.

Assuming all Elites shunned both of them because of his choice in significant other he imagined Alexis would be unhappy at first. However that was a worst case scenario and he doubted anything so extreme would occur. Besides, his daughter was a very reasonable and aged-beyond-her-years young woman; he was sure that she would accept whatever side effects occurred as a tradeoff for his happiness.

"Alexis'll understand."

"Will she?"

He ignored her comment and instead felt himself giving into the irritation boiling within his gut. He, the one who would face the most ramifications, didn't care about the fallout of their romance, so why did she care so damn much? Nothing would change for her except she would be able to leave her decent if not slightly dark and cramped apartment and move into his beautiful penthouse. Where was the downside in that?

"So you're suggesting what? That we not pursue this wonderful, amazing thing that we both know we could have? That we simply accept that we will be unhappy and unfulfilled for the rest of our lives because we're afraid of a little social resistance?"

She squeaked incredulously. "A little!"

"Kate." He softened his tone and stepped up in front of her so that he could slide one hand beneath her jaw and graze his thumb over her cheek in an attempt to erase the ghosts of tears. "I'm not saying it'll be easy and if you didn't want this, I'd understand, but you do, don't you? You want this."

He was certain she felt the same. The way she moaned and writhed beneath him the night before could have been physical responses to his touch, but the way she looked at him wasn't. The way she'd held his face with her hands smiled and then kissed him before snuggling her body into his wasn't. The brokenness in her eyes at that moment told him she didn't want to end things before they began, but she was afraid, and he couldn't fault her for that. Romances like theirs would never have an easy path, but he was willing to make the journey anyway.

She drew in a shuddered breath as he continued to cradle her face. She shut her eyes and two tears escaped as she said, "What if it doesn't work out? Your career would already be ruined and then you'd start to resent me and I couldn't-"

"Kate no." He cut off her silly thought and pulled her closer to him where thankfully she tucked her head beneath his chin and accepted his embrace. "That's not going to happen; I promise you. I would never resent you and I really think that-"

"Beckett? Oh—sorry."

The couple's moment was broken by a young blonde rookie cop poking her head into the breakroom door and then flushing as though she'd caught them in the throes of passion. Kate stepped back from the writer and sniffed back her tears before shaking her head and saying, "No—it's fine."

"It's just—the captain is looking for you."

Kate nodded and reached for a nearby napkin. "Uh huh. Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

The cop nodded to her before stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her. Kate used the napkin to mop her cheeks and beneath her nose before tossing it into the trash and telling the writer, "I have to go. It's probably about my car…"

He offered a fractured smile, but refused to let her leave before their plans were more concrete. "Come over again tonight. Please? I'll make dinner, open some wine and we'll talk some more."

She picked up her take-away mug of coffee and grazed her teeth over her bottom lip. "That, ah, sounds suspiciously like a date, Castle."

He grinned as his heart lifted with hope once more. "Maybe it is. Please?"

She stared at him for an agonizing ten seconds before nodding in agreement. "Okay. I get off at four but I-"

"So come right over—we can talk while I cook."

"O-okay."

Fighting the urge to kiss her, Castle reached out and gave her shoulder a solid squeeze. "Great! I can't wait!" He was going to win her over; he would make her see that their relationship wasn't doomed to fail but destined to succeed. She only needed a bit more convincing and he was an expert at that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

"Thank you again for dinner; it was excellent per usual," Kate said as she carried her used plate and wine glass to the counter where the writer was cleaning up and putting away leftovers. Kate found Castle's culinary skills to be one of the most surprising things about him. Not only was he an Elite single-father who was also a minor celebrity, which would have been enough to put him into a unicorn-like category, but he was actually incredibly experienced in the kitchen. Evidently this was because his mother was terrible as a cook so it meant he either needed to learn or starve (or so he explained), but she had yet to eat something he made that was not delicious.

"You are very welcome." He smiled and took her plate and glass, putting the plate into the dishwasher and the goblet into the sink to be hand washed. "I didn't have time to make dessert, but I figured we could take care of that ourselves."

"Castle." She groaned as her entire body flushed. Of course he had to make a comment like that—even after they had done so well during dinner!

When Kate arrived at the writer's apartment that evening he'd immediately launched into a speech that explained their meal that evening was all about convincing her they would be a great couple. As he poured their wine, she politely requested that they keep the evening light and pressure free as she was still thinking about whether or not she wanted to embark on an official relationship with him. She asked that they not talk about the previous night or the difficulties they would face as a mixed-origin couple. Castle agreed and to that point in the evening their topics of discussion had stayed within her boundary restrictions.

"C'mon!" He half pleaded, reaching out skirt his fingertips down her arm. "You know you want to do that again."

As his eyebrows wiggled suggestively at her, Kate felt her cheeks flush and she averted her eyes while thinking back to the night before. Despite her uncertainties when she arrived, the night had been amazing—beyond, in fact. It was, without question, the best night of her life. Not only was Castle a kind and attentive lover, but the entire experience had felt so freeing. Earlier that morning the writer had described it as being in the right place at the right time and she felt his statement aligned well with her sentiments. She didn't feel awkward or nervous curling up beside him afterwards and was excited when he woke her for round two.

Only when Kate woke again around four a.m. did reality set in. The night had been so wonderful—so much better than she expected it to be—that the potential for a broken heart was higher than ever. She knew from the moment she arrived at his place that they couldn't have a future together and cursed herself for being foolish enough to think that she could have one night with him without wanting more. Pushing herself from bed and collecting her clothing was one of the most difficult things she'd ever done, because she knew she would have to end their partnership, for being beside him but not being with him would be far too painful.

Silent tears fell down Kate's cheeks during her journey home and, when she arrived, she got immediately in the shower and sobbed out all of her sorrows, cursing the world for what it was and herself for not cutting off their relationship before she fell harder than she'd fallen before. As she toweled off her body she made the decision: she had to pull the plug and walk—well, run—away before the hurt could sink deeper into her core. She would end things with him, let their partnership naturally fade away, and move on.

But then he'd showed up at the Twelfth with her favorite coffee looking as infuriatingly handsome as ever. He'd dashed her hopes that he hadn't thought of their night together as more than just a tryst by saying wonderful things and nearly confessing that he was in love with her—and would have, had she not stopped him. Kate couldn't even put into words how much she longed for a wonderful man to love her so she could love him in return. Richard Castle could so very easily be that man, but the outside opposition they faced would be significant.

"I…I don't know."

"Yes you do; I know you do." He moved closer so that he could cup her jaw and force her to look at him. "Wasn't this evening proof we would be a great couple?"

She offered a sad smile. "We would, Castle—I never doubted that. It's…everyone else."

He grunted in frustration, stepped back and flung his arms out to the side. "Screw everyone else! Elites and normal get married all the time!"

She pressed her lips tightly together and tried to think of one example of a mixed couple she knew personally; she couldn't think of one. "I don't think so."

"Sure they do."

"Not in Manhattan."

"Then we'll move to middle-America and become boring famers."

She let out a loud laugh at his absurd statement. "You're insane."

He grinned and stepped up to her slowly. "I know, but you love it." Without waiting for her response, he cupped her face again and lowered his lips to hers. Kate found herself instinctually rising up on her toes to meet his mouth and close her hands around his forearms.

He kissed her again and again and, god, she couldn't think or process anything when his body was pressed that close to hers. She just wanted him all over her again and again and again… With Castle's lips on hers she became distracted wondering what would happen if she was on top this time, or if she used her police cuffs creatively. She was, in fact, so distracted that she did not hear the front door open or footsteps approaching the kitchen. It wasn't until she heard a yelp of, "Wha—Dad!" that she realized they weren't alone.

Kate jumped away from her companion and felt her cheeks burst with the fires of embarrassment. Standing a few feet away beside the dining room table stood Castle's beautiful seventeen year old second-tier Elite daughter Alexis. Her copper colored hair sparkled even in the dimmest light, her skin was a perfectly pale porcelain and her eyes so blue they practically glowed. She was truly a sight to behold and always reminded Kate of just how different Normals and Elites could be.

"Oh sorry Pumpkin." The writer chuckled casually as he brushed the back of his hand over his lips. "Didn't hear you come in. We'll get out of the kitchen now; there are some leftovers if you want them."

Alexis folded her arms over her chest. "I ate at Paige's. What's…going on? I thought you guys were just coworkers."

"Oh." He gave a sheepish shrug before putting his arm around Kate's shoulders. "We were; now we're more."

"Castle," Kate said warningly. They had not yet officially decided; _she_ had not yet officially decided. Then again, if he kept kissing her the way he had been, she'd be powerless to resist him.

"Well, we are." He rubbed her shoulder and then turned towards his daughter, confident.

Alexis, on the other hand, looked appalled. "Dad. You cannot be with a Defect."

The derogatory term made Kate feel as though she'd suddenly been doused in cold water. As she worked in a professional environment surrounded by Normals like herself, Kate had not been called a "Defect" for many years. In fact, she could not recall the last time someone had used such an insult when directed at her, though she had heard others around her using the terminology. Still, it was not one she expected to hear in the Castle loft, which had always been a safe and welcoming environment.

Fortunately, Castle appeared equally offended, and he stepped forward, dropping his arm from Kate's shoulders. "Hey! We do not use terms like that in this house, young lady!"

Alexis held her nose high in the air and said, "It's what she is."

"Alexis Castle you need to apologize right now!"

As the writer bellowed at his child—one of the very few times she'd ever heard him raise his voice—Kate wished she could disappear. This was it, her exact fear come to life, except it wasn't a random Elite on the street insulting them or Castle's bosses at Black Pawn, but the girl who could ultimately—god help her—become her stepdaughter. If not even Alexis could accept them as a couple, they didn't have a chance with the rest of the world.

"Alexis! Now!"

Not showing any remorse, the girl turned her sparkling blue eyes to Kate. "You've been nothing but nice to me, Kate, but I'm sorry it's what you are; you're not like us."

The girl was right; they were different and in that moment Kate couldn't have been happier for it. Alexis was demonstrating the exact reason why Castle was the first Elite that Kate had befriended. For the most part, Elites believed themselves to be superior because of their shiny, perfect features and flawless DNA, but when it came down to it their personalities could use a great deal of work.

"We're all the same, Alexis," her father reminded her, but the girl remained steadfast in her opinion.

"No, we're not and you know that. Do you know what this will do to me? I…I don't even know if I can stay at my school next year if I have a De—Normal as a step-mother."

"Alexis!" He groaned. "We're dating, not…not-"

"Are you? How long has this even been going on?" She threw back at him. "What if you do get married? I probably won't even be able to get into a university for Elites. They do background checks!"

Castle approached his daughter, whose chest had begun to heave in all her fury. "You're blowing this out of proportion; plenty of kids your age are still first tier Elites."

"But everyone will still know. God, did you even think about how bad this would be for me? Maybe I can go stay with Mom!"

"Alexis—Alexis!" The writer called out for his daughter, but she was already stalking her way up the stairs to her room and clearly had no interest in sticking around to have a rational conversation.

During the end of their shouting match, Kate had begun to creep her way towards the apartment exit in hopes that she could escape before the tears started to fall. Before the young red-head arrived, she had nearly been convinced they could make a go of their relationship, hard as it would be, but now she knew more than ever they'd be doomed, so what was the point?

"Kate, I'm so—what are you doing?"

She turned to see Castle as sad as she'd ever seen him, his shoulders rounded and his brow creased. As much as she wanted to hug him, she knew she had to keep her distance. "I should go."

"No please don't. I am so sorry. I raised her better than that."

As he was someone who showed absolutely no prejudice towards Normals, she believed that he had not been the one to teach Alexis her opinions, but that didn't make the girl any less passionate. "She's a product of her environment, Rick. Those private schools breed antagonism against Normals, feeding the Elite mentality. It's…actually a little bit scary for people like me."

For many years there had been a push to have the majority of babies born Elite instead of Normal and as the Elites grew up and chose to have Elite children of their own, that became more and more of a reality. That year alone there had been several speakers in the city encouraging Elite-only reproduction and asking that laws be passed so that Normals did not reproduce naturally. Of course such speech was all under the guise of eradicating diseases and eliminating birth defects, but for Normals like herself, the rhetoric was truly terrifying.

"None of that stuff will get off the ground, but I'm sure the Normal antidiscrimination laws will."

She shrugged, as that topic was not entirely relevant to their present situation. "Laws wouldn't stop Elites from hating me, Castle. Besides, I don't want to come between you and your daughter."

He shook his head and approached her. "You're not—she's just upset and surprised. She'll come around and-"

"No, Castle," Kate cut him off before he could say anything else that might have her changing her mind about leaving that evening. "Don't you see how shunned we'd be? You'd lose your career and all your celebrity."

"I don't care about that—I don't!" He insisted when her expression remained skeptical. "Screw everyone else in this whole damn world—I just want to be with you."

Kate breathed in a shuttered breath. Well, she definitely had to give him points for persistence and staying true to his feelings. Of course she didn't question how he felt about her then, in that moment, but if things became difficult? When they faced the opposition they knew was coming their way? No, he just was blinded by his feelings of her and not thinking clearly, which was why she decided to use the factor she thought of as her secret weapon—the solid, concrete reason why they couldn't have a future together.

"Things would be really hard for us Castle and it's not that I can't take tough times, I can-"

"Of course you can—we both can!"

"But it's…I wasn't going to bring this up but I need to, because it will always be there, hovering over us…"

His brow wrinkled. "What are you talking about?"

She sucked in a deep breath and set her shoulders as she looked at him. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to give up on a family yet."

He shook his head. "I don't understand. What does that mean?"

Her feelings weren't fair to him because, that evening aside, Kate had never known Alexis to be anything other than polite and sweet. The writer clearly adored his child and enjoyed being a parent; he'd told her as much on several occasions. He deserved the chance to be a father again if he wanted—and she imagined that he did—but that was a point on which she knew they would never agree.

"I've never been sure about wanting kids, I've always gone back and forth, since I was so focused on my career and never really in a relationship serious enough to think about it, but I always wanted to keep the option open. However, in my mind there's only one way I would become a mother. I don't want to have an Elite child—I think it's creepy the way you place an order for them and—I'm sorry." She added quickly when his brow began to wrinkle in offense. "I don't mean to disrespect you or Alexis. It's a choice that many make, but it's just not for me. If I have a child, I want it to happen naturally, and being with you would mean that couldn't happen."

The fact that Elite males could not have natural children was common knowledge. That little genetic adjustment the scientists made was often jokingly called the most convenient birth control of all, but jaded Normals like herself knew what it really was: protection against accidentally having a defective child—one that wasn't pristinely created in a lab. Thanks to technological advancements all these Elite men could have biological children by way of DNA harvesting, but only if they used one of the government-run reproductive clinics. Though she had never outright asked one, Kate was under the impression that Elite men quite enjoyed this factor for it allowed them the freedom of sex without worry of unplanned pregnancy and the ability to choose exactly what their son or daughter would be once they were born, unsettling as that was to her.

Kate felt guilty using this argument against Castle—she truly did. It mad her stomach roll and her palms clammy with nervous sweat. Castle did not ask to be born an Elite and thus he did not have a choice how he procreated, but she just couldn't conceptualize having a child that was manufactured by DNA printing machines rather than one that blossomed to life inside her womb.

Though it took the writer a solid few seconds to react when he did his eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, no we could—if that's what you really want."

" _How_?" she emphasized, not sure how he could make such a statement when she'd made her stance very clear.

He shook his head and held his hand up to encourage her to listen to his explanation. "First Gens aren't sterile. Neither are second gens, I believe? Not entirely sure—never did much research into it and not many people know about it. Case in point." He added with a wry smile.

Kate's heart skipped a beat as that was not a fact she had ever heard before and was certainly one she had never anticipated. As she struggled to comprehend the fact that her so called 'secret weapon' had turned out to be a total dud, Kate turned her eyes towards the loft's stairway. "But Alexis…"

"Is an Elite because that's what Meredith wanted and I never thought to question it."

"But you…"

He bobbed his head. "I found out when I was eighteen and they tested me so I know for sure. The viability of sperm is of the 'flaws' they fixed after the early gens. Wouldn't want to accidentally have an inferior child, would you?" he said with a mirthless laugh and then quickly added, "I'm sorry that was sarcasm directed at them, not us—our future…" He walked up to her, reached down and picked up one of her hands to cradle in his. "I'm ok with this–even if 'this' is planning our child while on our first official date."

At the growing smirk on his face Kate instantly felt mortified. God—that had not been her intention! They weren't officially dating yet so how had they skipped talk of marriage and gone right to talking about children? And it was all her fault! "Ah…shit, I um, actually was just hoping that would be an easy excuse to end this now…"

He hummed under his breath. "At least you're honest. But is that really what you want? To end this? Can't we find a way to make this work?"

"I don't know."

"Kate." His voice was pleading, desperate and it drew moisture to the front of her eyes so she turned away in a childish attempt to hide her tears from him. In response he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. "Please, Kate. Can't we find a way?"

Her diaphragm shuttered as she tried to breathe evenly despite the tears spilling down her cheeks. She wanted to walk away and tell herself she was making the right choice—the easier choice. Her working partnership with Castle would fade away and she would get a new partner—one who was actually employed by the NYPD. She'd spend days going through the motions, trying her best to make the city a better place, and then she'd go home to her apartment where she'd watch something on one of her television's one thousand channels, or maybe she'd read one of the hundred books she owned. In time, she might even meet a man—a Normal—and maybe they'd fall in love. Maybe they'd have a family. Maybe she'd only hear about Richard Castle when he published another one of his books, but, god help her, she didn't want that.

The thought of that world—the one in which she would never see him smile again or hear him laugh—made her heart feel as though it was splitting in two. He made her feel so good; he made her feel so happy—happier than she ever thought possible after her mother's death. Days with Richard Castle meant more smiles than frowns and more laughter than heartache. It would be hard for them—so very, very hard—but how could she turn her back on what they had? It had taken her almost three years, but she had fallen in love with him more than she'd ever loved anyone before and that was something worth holding on to because in that world of computers and robots everything could feel so cold and unattached that something warm and real was worth never letting go.

"I…I can't…" She hiccupped out a sob before stepping away from him and turning to see him appearing nearly heartbroken. "I wish that I could walk away from you and save us both from everything we'll face if we're together, but I can't…I can't walk away from you because…because I—I…"

He stepped forward, gripped her cheeks and bent down to brush his lips over hers. Pulling back, he smiled down at her and said, "I love you, too."

Instantly a smile broke through her tears and she fell against him, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. That moment had been the one she'd always dreamed of: when a wonderful man would say that he loved her and she wouldn't be afraid, but overjoyed because she felt the same. Despite the emotional rollercoaster that had occurred in the prior ten minutes, that moment had been well worth the thirty-three year wait.

Castle hugged her close and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "We're going to be okay, Kate."

She tilted her had back far enough so that she could look up into his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure about you. I'm sure about us. Everything else we'll just have to take it as it comes." His tone never wavered and neither did his smile. "So c'mon. Stay here with me."

As he tried to pull her towards the office, she dug her heels in and looked hesitantly back towards the stairs. The last thing she wanted was to be cuddled up with her father (or in an even more compromising situation) when Alexis wanted to go for battle round two. "But…"

The writer jutted his chin towards the second floor. "She needs the night to cool off and what kind of Elite boyfriend would I be if I let you leave still crying?"

A breathy chuckle escaped her lips as she brushed some tears away. "Not a very good one."

He winked at her. "And we wouldn't want that!"

Castle led the way to his office where they sat together on the loveseat there. Kate first sat down beside Castle, but then he pulled her legs across his lap so that she was completely curled around him. They sat that way in a comfortable silence for the better part of ten minutes before Kate lifted her head from his shoulder and said, "I think the only way this is going to work is if we're one hundred percent honest with each other."

He arched his right eyebrow at her. "Did you intend on lying to me otherwise?"

Shaking her head she said, "No, of course not. What I mean is honesty across the board—not trying to cover things up to spare each other's feelings. If you're upset because you're no longer allowed in the Elite clubhouse because of me, I want you to share those feelings." If he didn't, their relationship would surely implode as such a scenario could only breed resentment and distrust.

"I actually prefer the day spa to the clubhouse."

"Castle!"

He squeezed her thigh with his hand. "Yes of course, Kate honesty is best."

"Agreed," she said, resting her head against his shoulder again.

"So what do you have to tell me?"

"Hmm?"

"You wouldn't have brought that up if there wasn't something you were hiding."

Somewhat exasperated, Kate lifted her head and said, "I'm not hiding anything." Truly, she wasn't. She had been envisioning a scenario with them facing resistance and him trying to sweep it under the rug to avoid upsetting her and wanted to be upfront about the fact that she wanted full honesty—even if he thought he was doing it for her own good.

"C'mon—even if you weren't superficially thinking of something, your subconscious was. Let it out, Kate, let it out." He encouraged while poking belly.

She swatted his hand away. "My subconscious isn't hiding anything from you."

"Nothing? Not even anything about…I don't know…" He waved one of his hands casually. "How I'm the best lover you ever had?"

"Castle!" She scolded as she smacked her hand against his chest.

"What? That's a serious question."

"Well it's one I'm not answering."

"Must be because you don't have enough evidence." With that, he swiftly stood off the couch with her cradled in his arms. She gasped at the sudden movement and flung one arm around his neck for support, but had barely found purchase before he'd crossed the room and dumped her onto his bed. Grinning down at her he said, "Guess we'll have to go for round three."

A moment later his lips were on hers and she was flooded with the memories of just how incredible the prior night had been. As amazing as it had been, she knew that that night would be even better, because she had nothing to be uncertain about. He loved her and wanted to be with her despite the adversity they would face and that was certainly something to celebrate.

"Mm god, Kate." He moaned as he pressed his lips against her throat and covered one of her breasts with his hand. "You're so incredible; you're perfect."

Though he'd clearly meant it to be a compliment, for Kate the "p" word felt like pressing the pause button on her libido and she slid a few inches away from the man lavishing her neck with kisses. His brow wrinkled and he asked her what was wrong, but she wasn't even sure herself.

"I'm not perfect, Castle. I'm…not an Elite."

"Uh yeah." He sat up a bit straighter. "That's kind of been the theme of this evening's conversations, but you know I don't care about that."

"I do, but I…I don't know. I've never been with an Elite before for many reasons, but one of them being that I was afraid of not being perfect enough—and I, god." She groaned and covered her face. "I hate that I think that, but it's true."

"Kate." He reached out and gently circled her wrist with his hand so he could pull her hand away from her face. "I love you which means you're perfect to me. You're the only woman I want—truly. I haven't been with anyone in year because I've only wanted you."

Her heart fluttered in her chest as hearing that almost meant more than hearing that he loved her. A nervous giggle bubbling from her throat she said, "I…I haven't been with anyone either—not since Postal-worker Dan." He smiled at her and somehow she felt even sillier. "God, we're so sappy, aren't we?"

"Yeah, and it's great. We're going to make Ryan and Esposito sick."

"Oh." She placed her hand on his chest before he could kiss her again. "Are we going to tell them? About us?"

"Pretty sure they already think we're sleeping together…"

"Wha—really?" she squeaked, having no idea her partners thought that.

He shrugged. "Maybe. Even if they don't they'll eventually figure it out when we, I don't know, invite Kev and Jenny on a double date..."

As nice as that sounded Kate still wasn't sure she wanted to make an announcement right away. "Sure but…maybe could we just keep this to ourselves for a little while? That way we don't have the pressure of everyone judging us when it's still new."

"Kate, Ryan and Espo aren't going to care."

"No, I know they won't and of course we can tell our parents just…no one else for a little while, okay?"

He shrugged. "Okay. If that's what you want." Lifting up his left hand to brush some hair off her face he added, "As long as I can call you mine, Kate Beckett, we can do whatever you want."

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you all so much for your kind reviews -I'm glad to hear you're enjoying my unusual-little AU. reminder: there are 8 chapters in total, so 2 more to go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"Did you get rid of your stray?"

Castle slammed the refrigerator door shut and spun around to find his daughter wearing a half-smirk as she stood with her arms folded over her chest at the edge of the kitchen. The writer sucked in a deep breath and counted to five before responding. Alexis had always been a very well-behaved, mild mannered child. He could have counted on one hand the times he had to punish her during her youth. In fact, one time after she broke something she knew she was not permitted to touch, she had even punished herself! Even as she entered her tumultuous teen years they had barely any incidents: she was kind, thoughtful, and did well in school. He just could not understand where all this animosity was suddenly coming from, but he was going to put a stop to it then and there.

"That's enough; you need to sit down because you are not leaving this apartment until we talk about this attitude of yours." He flung his hand out towards the kitchen table, gesturing for her to sit. She did so, though with a notable sound of displeasure under her breath. Sitting at the chair across from her, Castle tried to keep his tone as even as possible. "I don't understand, Alexis—where is all of this suddenly coming from? You've never spoken like this about Normals before."

She held her head up a little higher. "Well it's not new, we just don't talk about them much."

She was correct; he could not recall a discussion in the prior few years when they talked about Normals or the difference between Normals and Elites. Still, he had always tried to impress upon her the importance of tolerance and acceptance of others no matter their race, gender, or origin. "I taught you better than this—I know I did."

"Well you didn't teach me everything."

His eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

She gave a noncommittal little shrug and grazed her well-manicured fingernails over the top of the table. "I joined a club at school and they've got all this literature about how the world would be so much better if everyone was Elite."

Castle's heart sunk down towards the pit of his stomach. "Oh Alexis…" He was not naïve and he knew there was a portion of the Elite population that believed the option to procreate naturally should be removed. Of course even if such a law was enacted—which it would never be since the population of Normals still far outpaced that of Elites—it would be impractically difficult to enforce not to mention going against the basic human rights given to citizens of their country since its inception. Still, he always thought of those that believed in that as extremists and to know that his daughter could be lumped in with them was unsettling.

"You should see it—you'd understand."

He shook his head as nothing could ever make him see that viewpoint. "You think everyone should be Elite? Well what about your grandmother. She's not like us, so are you going to call her a Defect too?"

Alexis rolled her eyes as though this was the most absurd suggestion in the world. "Of course not—she didn't have an option; this is all about the future. The world needs to be free of Normals and we can make that happen by enacting laws-"

"No! Stop!" He commanded before she could go any further. "You're sixteen years old—you don't have any idea how the world works and it certainly couldn't work like that."

"But we're so much better than them!"

"We might not have congenital heart defects or diabetes, but from what I can see we're not all better," he said thinking of whomever formed the club she joined at school and produced such disturbing literature.

"So you want babies with heart defects?"

"Of course not, but that's not what you're talking about, is it? This isn't about eradicating diseases and genetic abnormalities that would affect the function of organs. It's about smooth skin, shimmering eyes, symmetrical proportions…" If they were just talking about genetic screenings that would eliminate the possibilities for cancers or diseases science had not yet cured, that would have been something he could get behind, but he knew better.

"No." His daughter said with an evasive gaze, which only confirmed his thoughts. Elites didn't just like being Elites because they didn't have to worry about future medical problems. They enjoyed having the nicest hair and the most beautiful eyes. That's why so many salons and spas existed that serviced Elites only, tattooing on eyeliner or proving subdermal implants just in case the Elite did not like a particular feature their parent chose for them. The narcissism of some of them was sickening and he hated to think his daughter was becoming one of those Elites, though given how her mother acted he supposed he couldn't say he was shocked.

"Alexis, you have to open your eyes and see outside of your Elite high school world because it's not reality."

"But it could be!"

He shook his head and stood from the table, needing to shut down her inappropriate opinions once and for all. "No. No this is…disturbing—not to mention bordering on illegal. You know I've been supporting congressmen who want to prevent this, right?" Supporting those trying to make everything equal and fair for both Normals and Elites was something Castle had begun doing in the prior year, ever since one of his dinner-and-drinks with Kate had turned into her expressing concern with regards to a protest they had seen earlier that day on a similar subject.

"Are you sure that's the right thing?"

"Yes. I am." He promised with great conviction. "You know Kate, Alexis. You have for three years now. Are you telling me you want to take away her rights? Her choices?"

Stubbornly, the girl turned her eyes towards the table and said, "She's not like us."

"Look at me, Alexis—I'm not like you."

She laughed. "Of course you are."

"No, I'm not," he said, pointing to his face for emphasis. "My skin has freckles and moles, my eyes are turning more grey-blue than ever."

"You're getting old."

"Wh—no!" He spluttered at her indirect insult. "I'm a First Gen. You don't understand what it's like. You've existed in a world where all your peers are just like you, but me? No one was like me. I grew up around Normals and they're just like us. All this superficial stuff it's only skin deep and it's what's inside that really matters." As hard as it had been to grow up in a world where he was the only "freak" as they called him, he was grateful for the experience; it grounded him. Existing around Normals showed him that they truly were all the same and that many of the so-called flaws the geneticists behind the Elites were trying to fix were superficial ones. Underneath it all they were all blood, bone, and tissue. He always thought Alexis understood that, but if she didn't, she needed a wakeup call before it was too late.

"Maybe…I don't know. Maybe you should go to public school next year."

Alexis shrieked and pushed herself back from the table so violently that her chair tipped over. Acting as though her father had just suggested she needed to clean the public bathrooms of Central Park for six months, she blurted out, "Dad—no! No way! That's disgusting!"

He remained steadfast as he stared down at her. "And that's the exact reason you should go."

"You wouldn't! My senior year!"

"You can still see your friends after school and on weekends."

"They won't want to hang out with me if I go to public school. They'll never speak to me again!"

"Then that says something very sad about your so-called friendship." With that, he walked casually back towards the kitchen to continue making the breakfast he intended to cook before she'd interrupted him. As far as he was concerned their discussion was over. He knew she would hate him for the moment for his decision, but he knew in the long run it would be for her own good to open her eyes and make her see how Normals lived.

"You're doing all this because of Kate!" She spat out her accusation as she followed him to the refrigerator.

"Oh, no, not at all. Thank goodness Kate and I happened—for many reasons but also because it made me see a part of you that I don't like. You're young, Alexis, and I'm not saying that had I been in your position at this age I wouldn't have thought similarly, but that doesn't make it right."

Once again she folded her arms tightly across her chest. "You know Black Pawn won't publish you anymore."

The writer retrieved a carton of eggs and jug of milk from the refrigerator and then shut the door with his hip. "I accept that as a possibility, yes."

"So why? Why would you throw everything away for-"

"I'm not throwing anything away." He cut her off sharply. "I'm gaining far more than I could ever lose. I hope you'll understand one day when you fall in love with someone; it changes everything. She could be from outer space and I'd still feel the same about her."

"People would hate her less if she was an alien," Alexis muttered.

"And isn't that sad?" He replied.

They stood in silence for the better part of a minute before Alexis spun on her heel and made to leave the kitchen. Before she could take more than a few steps, Castle stopped her with, "Wait. I expect you to write an apology email to Kate by the end of the day—a genuine apology for how you treated her yesterday. And I think you should spend some time with her, get to know her better."

"Anything else, Father?" she responded, her tone as haughty as ever.

Castle took in a deep breath, never more disappointed in that moment. "I know you hate me right now, but hopefully one day you'll understand."

For the first time since she descended the stairs that morning, Alexis spoke softly. "I don't hate you, Dad. I guess I just didn't realize how different we were."

Castle watched her go before turning back to the carton of eggs with a diminished appetite. He hated being at odds with his daughter, since for the prior seventeen years it seemed they'd been on one united team. In other situations she would be able to smile, call him "Daddy" and win him over, but not that time; he absolutely would not yield. Like Elites, Normals were humans too, and they deserved the same rights, the same chances, and the same opportunities. He would not treat a Normal differently than he would treat another Elite; they were all the same in his mind. Had it not been such a persistent topic of discussion in the prior thirty-six hours, Castle probably would never have thought about Kate's Normal status again, but if it was going to be something he had to fight for, he would, because he loved her and he knew that would never change.

* * *

 **A/N:** The final chapter will be up Saturday. There will also be a companion fic to this that's a similar AU universe but slightly darker :)

Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"Uh, Beckett?"

Kate grunted at the sound of her partner, Esposito, approaching. She glanced up only briefly from the coffee she was pouring to see him hovering a few feet away just inside the door. "What's up?"

"Have you read the Post's celebrity column yet today?"

She laughed out a, "No. Why?" Kate could count on one hand the times she'd voluntarily read the celebrity column in the prior decade. She had, on a few additional occasions, read a specific article when the writer stuck his tablet under her nose and requested that she do so, but otherwise she had little interest in reading about what the upper echelon of Elites were up to those days.

"You're probably going to want to look at this."

Kate glanced over at the tablet her partner held out for her and gasped immediately upon seeing the headline, _Castle Relationship Shocker!_ Kate abandoned her coffee mug on the counter and quickly snatched the tablet so she could read the article that—god help her—probably involved her name.

 _Famed Elite mystery writer Richard Castle has confirmed exclusively to Page Six that he is in a relationship with Normal-born NYPD Detective Kate Beckett. Castle, who has written nearly two dozen novels, began shadowing the detective nearly four years ago to research his newest character, Nikki Heat. Since then, rumors have been flying about the couple romantic status. After they were spotted looking very cozy at a charity event last month, it seemed the will-they-or-won't-they darlings had finally made a commitment. We reached out to Castle's publicist only to receive a return phone call from the man himself._

 _"Yes, Kate and I are dating and we're very happy, thank you," he said as a statement. When asked whether or not he viewed the fact that Beckett is Normal-born as a future issue between them he said, "Of course not, because I love her."_

 _On that point, only time will tell._

"Unbelievable!" Kate grumbled before stalking out of the breakroom and stomping her way towards the writer, who sat at his usual position in the chair beside her desk. "Castle!"

The writer jumped at her scolding tone so much that he nearly dropped his phone onto the ground. He scrambled around to try and catch it before it fell while asking, "What? What happened? You were gone three minutes!"

"This happened!" she said, flinging out her arm holding the tablet. "You gave Page Six an interview!? I cannot believe you did this. I never asked you to do this!"

The writer spluttered for a moment as he stood and tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. "Wa—no—no I didn't give them an interview… They've been harassing Paula and she's been complaining to me so I called them back and gave them an honest answer."

She dropped the tablet down onto her desk a bit harder than she should have. "Why didn't you just take out a billboard instead!?"

"Well this was much easier than that…"

"Castle! Why didn't you ask me before you did this? Or let me know after you'd done it?"

"I…was hoping you wouldn't see it?" he offered as more of a question than anything else, his upper lip curling into a cringe. Too infuriated to speak, Kate merely growled in response.

The writer held up his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. Paula just called me to complain again—she really has been getting bombarded since we were photographed leaving that charity thing together—and she was putting me on edge so I made what was, admittedly, a rash decision. I should have told you—asked you!" He corrected quickly when her eyes flared wide. "But, honey, isn't it time people know? It's been four months and we're so happy. Is there really something so wrong about people knowing how happy we are?"

Kate pressed her lips together tightly and gave her head a quick shake. She couldn't really argue with him on that point. The prior four months had been the happiest of her life. The transition she and Castle made from friendly partners to lovers had been absolutely seamless. While the beginning had been filled with some animosity from his daughter, Alexis had eventually come around. Kate knew the girl would never be fully supportive of her father's choice, but she had promised not to be adverse to it and to spend more time trying to understand Normals in exchange for her father allowing her to finish out her high school tenure at her Elite private school. As for everyone else: Martha was thrilled, Ryan wouldn't stop inviting them to couples double-date events, and Esposito insisted he didn't care as long as they didn't make out in the squad room, though he later causally mentioned to her how nice it was to see her happy.

The detective truly did not mind if others outside their tight-knit circle of close friends and family knew the reason for her happiness, but it was not that simple. "It's not as much that I'm mad people know we're a couple now, but now we have to face the fallout from all of this."

The writer reached out and skimmed his hands down her arms until he could squeeze her wrists reassuringly. "It's going to be fine."

"Is it?" she asked somewhat rhetorically, but before he could answer, Ryan walked up to them and asked, "You ready Castle?" The writer had already agreed to go and interview a suspect who happened to be an Elite. Though he was very helpful due to his observational skills and outside-the-box thinking, Kate's team found the writer most useful when it came to dealing with Elites who they feared would not only look down upon them as police but as Normals as well.

Smiling to his girlfriend, the writer said, "I promise it's going to be fine." He leaned in and kissed her cheek before grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and calling out, "I love you!" as he walked towards the elevator.

"Yeah," Kate sighed quietly, putting the cover back across the tablet and walking it to Esposito's desk, "me too…"

* * *

"You look like your day got worse after that perp punched you out."

Castle looked up when his girlfriend walked into his office and winced at the throbbing pain in his jaw. No, being slugged by the Elite accused of murder he'd gone to interview had not been fun. However, watching Ryan cuff him for assault after the blow had made him feel moderately better. Skimming his hand over the spot he knew would have a bruise by morning he said, "I'm fine, Kate."

She studied his face for a moment before concluding. "No you're not, but not because of the punch… Black Pawn?" she guessed, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

He took in a deep breath and dipped his chin. "Yep." He had taken the call no long after he'd returned home to ice his injury while Ryan took the perp in for booking. Gina had been, as predicted, gleeful as she mentioned the article in _Page Six_ and then grilled him about how long their relationship had been going on. Of course, Castle refused to give her a straight answer as it was none of her business both as his ex-wife and publisher.

"Canceling your contract?"

"I'm on probation pending a contractual review but…I'm sure that's where this is going." He skimmed his hand over the uninjured side of his face and leaned back in his chair. Immediately after ending the call with the reporter a few days earlier Castle had wondered just how long it would take before Black Pawn was scrambling to keep their reputation intact, but he had honestly been surprised by the same-day phone call. Then again, Castle believed that Gina suspected he and Kate were romantic long before they actually were, so perhaps she'd been prepared. Nevertheless, her comment about recent events making it clear that their lawyers needed to review his contract to see if it breached the public perception and behavior clause made him sick. He hadn't murdered or assaulted anyone; he was in love, and if that was his worst crime, he couldn't be happier about it; perhaps it was time he found a publisher more in line with his own views.

"I'm sorry."

Castle shook his head as he stood and walked around so that he could crouch down beside her and assure her that he in no way was upset. "I'm not—really." He added when she gazed down at him skeptically. He was annoyed, but he would move on. In fact, he already had a plan. "I can keep writing on the side, but this actually gives me the opportunity to focus on the new project I've been thinking about for a month or so now."

"Which is?"

"Politics. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure Normals are guaranteed the same rights as Elites, even if that means I have to run for office myself." As his plan was still all inside his mind, he was probably being a bit overzealous about it, but now that Black Pawn had cut his leash, he had ample free time to work on the goals he wanted to achieve in whatever ways possible.

"Wha…are you serious?"

He smiled and nodded. "Absolutely."

Her brow knitted as she gazed down at him. "Oh, Castle…that's so sweet, really, but…but I don't know how I feel about being with a politician."

"But I won't be a greedy, crooked one." He promised with a wink. As she continued to look uncertain, he lifted up his right hand so it could skim beneath her jaw and he could brush his thumb over her cheek. "I just want to make sure that you and our future children have the best world possible to live in."

Castle had never thought once about having Normal children before Kate brought it up as something she wanted for her future. Elite reproduction was the way of the future—if one could afford to have an Elite child, which he could, but the more he thought about Normal conception, the more excited he was. They didn't need to worry about inherited diseases; as an Elite he didn't have any. They could just be happy and excited to try to conceive, just like people had done decades in the past. Then they would have a baby—hopefully more than one, though not necessarily at the same time—and live in the wonder of who that child would look more like and what they'd grow up to be. The experience was going to be incredible and he couldn't wait which was why he had to make sure the world would be ready and safe when that time came. He still worried that as a Normal born from an Elite his child would face the same struggles he did growing up, but he and Kate would make sure that child was fully loved and strong enough to bear any adversity that came their way.

Nuzzling her cheek onto his hand, Kate said, "You're wonderful, you know that?"

He shrugged playfully. "I've heard it once or twice." Then he leaned in and gave her a kiss. "I love you, Kate."

Leaning her forehead into his, she sighed out, "I love you, too. Always."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for humoring me with this strange little AU universe. There is a companion fic I would call it. I thought about what this type of story might look like if it really were illegal for Elites and non-Elites to be together and so I wrote an AU of my own AU - because that's what I do with my time... ha. Still needs cleaned up a little bit but it'll be coming in the next few days.

Thanks again for reading!


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